


Something In The Water

by TheMouthKing



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: First Time, Frotting, Hand Jobs, Kink Neal, M/M, Sex Pollen, Smut, Something In The Water, present day, tropetastictuesday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 23:24:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMouthKing/pseuds/TheMouthKing
Summary: There's something in the LA water supply that's causing an outbreak of sex in public. Enjoy your coffee.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Babashook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babashook/gifts).



“Hey, did you guys see this?” Eddie asks, glancing up from his phone as he walks into the kitchen. “The water supply around LA is so polluted that there’s viagra in it. They’re warning people to use caution and drink bottled water until the issue is resolved.”

Link looks up from the cup of coffee he’d just made, swallowing as he glances back down into the dark liquid. When he looks up again, he and Rhett exchange a look from across the room that’s all raised eyebrows and uncertainty. 

Should they be worried? Rhett’s eyeing his tea suspiciously. _Of course_ Rhett’s sinking into the conspiracy of this. He doesn’t set the cup down, but he doesn’t take another sip of his tea, either, for all the good that’ll do, considering he’s on his fourth cup this morning. 

“So, what… LA is plagued with boners today?” Rhett asks, looking a little concerned. A little uncomfortable. 

Link can’t help it. His attention flicks down the length of his body on the word _boners_ , like he’s expecting to see the manifestation of it in the front of his jeans. Just as quickly, he looks anywhere else. 

But not before Rhett catches where he’d been looking. Link’s face is burning hot as he steadfastly refuses to look back at the taller man. 

“That’s what it sounds like…” Eddie glances between his bosses, trying to keep his face reading ‘concerned’ and not ‘amused’ as he looks back down into his phone. A few taps, and he’s talking again. “Yeah, I mean… this one’s warning to drink bottled water and stay indoors. I guess maybe people are getting… aggressively horny?”

By now, Eddie can’t control the amusement in his voice or the smirk on his face, but when it’s met with concern from the faces all around him, he manages to stifle it down. Jen, who’s been listening but saying nothing turns and dumps her water bottle out in the sink. Stevie just sets her mug down. 

Link rubs a hand over the back of his neck, worrying over all the coffee he’s had today and the big glass of water first thing this morning. He’s starting to feel like he needs to go hide in the office. He needs more information about what the hell’s going on. How did this happen? If he gets affected, he’s going to sue the city… 

He doesn’t move fast enough. Rhett beats him to it, abruptly kicks his stool away from the island and says, “Well, I’m going to get back to work. Grab a coke or somethin’. Stay safe out here.”

Link feels this pressure to stay cool as Rhett leaves the kitchen. To not just get up and tail him to the office, even though that’s what they do every day of the week, half the time just following each other around like they’re attached at the hip. Today, that feels too… obvious somehow. Like they’d be slipping off for some particular reason. 

Sneaking out because they’re both horny. 

Maybe Link’s the only one feeling that way. Hell, maybe it’s not even the water, but the suggestion of it. The _possibility_. 

There’s some awkward laughter in the wake of Rhett’s exit, Jen heading to the fridge and pulls out a gatorade as Stevie pulls out her phone to look for the news article Eddie had been reading from. Link’s not sure if he’s imagining it, but he thought he saw Jen eyeing Stevie and Eddie from across the kitchen as she takes a long swig of the gatorade. Does viagra affect women too?

Link’s trying to wait an acceptable amount of time before he heads off after Rhett, but it’s starting to backfire on him because he’s listening to Stevie read another article that refutes the first. Says it’s not viagra — that they don’t know _what’s_ in the water, just that people are acting strange. An unprecedented spike in public indecency arrests, people out of control, having sex in broad daylight. Total strangers outside, at work, in public restrooms, parked cars. Fucking all over Los Angeles. 

Link waited too long to leave the kitchen, he realizes, because by the time he does, there’s a… _situation_ happening. In his pants. 

He abandons his cup of coffee (not that he was even drinking it anymore) in favor of stuffing his hands into his pockets as a distraction as he leaves. He thinks he managed to make it out of the kitchen without anyone catching on, but practically the second he’s gone he hears a thrill of laughter rise up. He can’t shake the feeling that they know, though the reality is they’re all too wrapped up in their gossip about the news they’re sifting through as they drink bottled beverages and try to ignore each other’s glances to notice anything off about Link. 

He shouldn’t go to the office because Rhett’s there. He should just… he doesn’t know. Go home, maybe. Lock himself in the bathroom, handle this _alone_. It’s certainly not the first time he’s had to take care of himself at work, but this is different. 

He ends up in the office like his body was on autopilot, like he’s not in control. He closes the door behind himself and holds it shut with the weight of his body leaning back against it, heart thudding in his chest.

Rhett looks up at him from where he’s sitting on the sofa, laptop in his lap as he scrolls through whatever he’s reading. It’s a perfectly normal thing, walking in to find Rhett settled on the sofa, doing research. What’s not normal is the look in his eyes. It’s dark and it’s hungry, and momentarily it feels like all the air’s gone out of the room. Rhett’s never looked at him like that before, like all he wanted in the world was the chance to devour him. 

Thing is, Rhett maybe has looked at him like that before in lesser degrees, he’s just tried so hard to stay a step ahead. To avoid facing this head on because it didn't feel like something he could control, and he needed to be in control. He needed to know what was going on, couldn’t handle diving head first into the mess of the unknown. He just _had to know what it meant_. He had to be in the driver’s seat, had to be able to stop if he needed to. Needed to be the one to give and take. 

Maybe he doesn’t get the choice now, doesn’t get to stay safely in his comfort zone, because the way Rhett’s gaze drags down his body is tearing through the part of him that knows better. It’s digging its claws in deep to the raw core of him that _needs_. Link sees him looking, knows he’s eyeing the bulge in his jeans. 

The twist of the lock is loud in the silent room. 

_’Gosh, what am I doing?’_ Link’s mind rails as he grips the doorknob tight.

Rhett doesn’t say a word, just closes the lid of his computer and sets it aside and _oh_ , but his fly is open, the dark navy of his boxer briefs the only thing (barely) concealing the fact that he’s hard, too. Link feels trapped, can’t do anything but watch as Rhett sinks back against the sofa, hands coming to rub along his thighs and settle there, so close to the open crotch of his jeans it’d take just a flick of his thumb to stroke his straining erection. All the while, Rhett doesn’t take his eyes off’a Link. He just watches him and waits, drinks him in like a man in the desert, dying for a drink. He licks his lips. 

That’s what breaks the silent stillness between them, that lick, because in a flash Link’s crossing the room and crawling into his lap. He’s still in control if he’s the one who makes a move, if he’s on top. Right? He feels in control of this as he leans down to kiss Rhett, their mouths crushing together like this is something they’ve been dancing around, like something they’ve been wanting for years. Whatever was in the water wore the barrier between them away the way water does, relentless pressure and motion until things crumble, erode and give way to the rush. 

Rhett’s hands are on him, fingertips skimming up under the hem of his t-shirt as they skirt along the waist of his jeans, brushing over the bare skin over the small of his back before settling on his hips and pulling him in, grinding their bodies together. Link doesn’t feel quite so in control as Rhett guides his hips, his body, but… it’s okay. He feels this high thrill of panic rise in him, physical sensation more than any kind of _thought_ but as the seconds stretch he identifies the feeling… not panic. No, not panic… need. Shivering, white-hot need. 

Nothing about this is in control. By definition, they’re out of control, something in the water stirring their thoughts and desires. 

Link’s gotta breathe but Rhett won't let up, won’t let go, so he bites his mouth and Rhett leans away from him, gasping as he swipes his tongue over his lips, barely taking a second to recover before he’s leaning in for more. Link plays keep away for just a second, takes the moment to reach down between them and undo his own button and fly, but… he gets distracted, his hand brushing over Rhett’s barely concealed erection. Fingers glancing the fabric clinging damp to the head. 

Gosh, the _sound_ Rhett makes when his hand barely comes in contact with his cock ratchets through him, hitting all the way up his spine. So he does it again, the next time with intention, thumb worrying the leaking slit through the thin cotton of his briefs. Rhett’s breath chokes out slow and he sinks into the sofa, stares up at Link and then down between them. He wants to memorize the the look on his face, the way those dark blue eyes bore through him, but he wants to watch his hands on him. He wants it all, everything. He wants Link’s pants undone already, damnitall, and so while Link’s fishing his hand into Rhett’s jeans, Rhett’s fumbling with the smaller man’s fly, hands shaking. 

Link’s apparently decided he wants to do it, or Rhett’s not doing it fast enough, because he finds his hands swatted away and Link’s opening his pants and pushing them as far down his hips as he can, sitting like this. Rhett isn’t helping when his hands come and cup the firm swells of his ass and haul him in for another slow grind, but he’s not hurting matters either. 

Link forgets just what he was doing for a minute there. Fuck, he forgets how to _breathe_ and he’s just holding on, a hand gripped tight at the back of Rhett’s neck. But then he remembers, reaches down, tugs himself free of his briefs. Tugs Rhett free. 

Then they’re touching, all skin on skin and it’s perfect. Rhett carries on guiding his hips and Link lets him, loses himself in the slow rock of their bodies together. They’re kissing again, Link still holding Rhett by the hair like he’s afraid of floating away if he lets go. He could cum just like this, without a hand on his dick, just rubbing up on Rhett like this with those big old hands holding on to his ass. Guiding him to move, the motion, the way he’s rocking feeling like fucking bone deep. Feeling like riding him. 

Suddenly he can’t kiss him any more, can’t manage to do that and not die from suffocation, like the two of them have caught fire and are sucking up all the oxygen in the room. Fingers grip the nape of Rhett’s neck fiercely tight and he’s hiding his face against his shoulder, gasping wordless cries into the join between shoulder and neck, babbling incoherent. Rhett’s damn near rising up off the sofa, rutting up as hard as he’s pulling Link down on him. 

It’s Link who falls apart first, nails digging half-moons in the sensitive skin of his neck as he cums and comes apart at the seams. He’s gasping for air and he’s loud, all this sound escaping between them, whimpering into the collar of Rhett’s flannel shirt. Link’s barely slumped against Rhett when one of those hands comes to catch Link by the wrist and pull it down between their bodies, urge it around his throbbing, aching cock. Link gives an experimental tug, hand moving through his own mess and Rhett’s leaking contributions, a little lost under the haze of his own orgasm, a little muddled. The groan he pulls from Rhett feels like a prize, feels like he’s finding his footing here, like he’s sinking back into his skin and regaining control. 

He keeps on, stroking Rhett the way he likes touching himself when he’s alone, the way he likes it when people touch him, the only point of reference he’s got when it comes to getting someone with a dick off. It’s nowhere near the same and he’s finding out fast what Rhett likes, the tall man so easy to read he’s quick to hone in just what he does, how he moves and how firm he grips him until Rhett’s squirming beneath him. _Squirming_. Moving so damn much it’s threatening to buck him off. But Link won’t be thrown off so easy. He just holds on, hand flying over his dick as he goes _faster_ and fists a bunch of the sofa behind Rhett’s head for leverage.

Rhett comes with a shout, startling Link — that’s certainly going to have been heard beyond the office door — and Link hushes him with his mouth. Rhett has to pull back before long, needs _air_ , but Link keeps chasing his mouth, nosing into the soft brush of his beard. 

They slump together against the sofa, a pile of limbs and half-undone clothes and their drying mess and just breathe together, slowly settling back into their skin. Neither of them has said anything yet, but the both of them know that something’s changed. They’re each thinking it without knowing the other is, thinking about how bad and how long they’d wanted to do this. How long they’d been waiting for the dam to break. How fucking ironic it is that it was something in the water that eroded it away. 

There’s a knock at the door and then the knob jiggles like someone’s trying to come in. Thank God Link locked it, he thinks, a cold spike of fear shooting through him as he sits up straight in Rhett’s lap, preparing to rush away, like he’s afraid someone’s coming in. Like they’ve been caught. 

“Hey guys.”

It’s Eddie. 

“Hey, we just figured out… it’s April Fool’s Day… it was some dumb prank LA decided to pull with the local media. Nothing’s going on with the water.”

Rhett and Link look each other dead in the eye. Rhett’s face looks unreadable for a second, terrified of what Link’s about to do, that he’s about to panic or freak out now that they know this wasn’t the water. It was all them. 

“…you guys okay? We heard someone yell, I wanted to make sure everything’s okay…”

“Yeah, we’re alright. Thanks for checking…” Link calls out, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a little grin.

**Author's Note:**

> APRIL FOOL'S, MOFOS. 
> 
> (P.S. I really do love comments, sooo... ^_^ )


End file.
